Sweet Talker
by FattySkeleton
Summary: Sani dirty talks at Zebura about a certian chef. all spelling mistakes should be reported. I'm working Beta-less.


_Of the three other heaenly kings, Zebura hated Sani the most. The bastard was cocky, he was picky, and he never shut up. But the worst part was that he knew exactly how to press Zebura's buttons._

Zebura watched the little chef as he worked on their dinner, the file of food growing larger every passing minute. His face was set, focused and unwaving, deetermined to make everything perfectly. He watched those skilled hands work the knife into making perfect cuts of the meat.

"Beautiful isn't he?"

Zebura didn't move when that voice breathed into his ears, but he couldn't stop his pupils from dialating slightly. Sani was the only one of the three that could perfectly throw his voice like Zebura but not as far. At the moment the Beautiful King was idily watching him from across the fire, throwing glances between Komatsu and him.

Zebura didn't respond to him.

"The way he holds that knife. The concentrated look on his face. The sweat dripping from his skin. How careful he is with his tools. Makes you wonder if he's like that in activites other than cooking?"

Zebura blinked.

"Is he just as careful when he's touching himself? Does he do it lightly, letting his fingers glide slowly from base to tip? Teasing himself like his fingers are feathers? Does he gental himself along with his eyes open, watching everything he does to make sure he's doing it right? Does he breath lightly, all controled, like it's some specialty ingrediant that only he gets to touch? Does he curl in a bit, protecting it from the world? Mmmh, wouldn't that be a beautiful sight to see?"

Zebura took a deep breath.

"I'd like to see him do it hard though. His weeping dick clutched tight in his grip, as he pumped his hand up and down. His mucles flexing as the tension in his body builds with his pleasure. His deep panting breaths as he throws back his head, his eyes closed tightly. He'd arch his back till only his head and ass touched the ground, his dick proudly thrust out, his hand still pumping as sweat dripped from his skin."

Zebura grit his teeth.

"Just imagine him in your arms, crying, withering, moaning. His dick hard as a rock and weeping precum as you slide your hands all over his body. He'd make a lovely sound anytime you touched something sensitve. Pinch a nipple, *wimper*. Lick his neck, *whine*. Bite his ear, *Gasp*!"

Zebura let his tounge loll out.

"Just imagine the face he'd make when you finally wrapped your hand around his dick, his eyes would go so wide! But then it'd be nothing to what his body would do when you began pumping it, stareing into his face the entire time. Oh, he'd blush. He would go as red as a ruby tomato and he'd avoid your gaze. And you would warn him with a growl and punish him with a smake to his tight, quivering, juicy ass."

Zebura's hand twitched.

"After that, he would try his best to keep eye contact with you, but he'd be way too embaressed. His hands clenching your shoulders in pleasure and in nerves, as his thighs quivered in anticipate and fear on your lap. You'd take him to the peak and keep him there waiting for what you want, and eventually he'd given in. He'd look into your face with teary eyes and start to beg. He'd plead with you to finish him. He'd beg you please!"

Zebura let out a quiet 'Hah' sound.

"And then you'd give him that one touch that would send him over. He would go ramrod straight and his eyes would roll back into his head. His dick would shoot out the thick white cream of his seamen and it would splatter over his chest. His fingers would dig into your skin and his legs would clench your thighs as he rode out the pleasure you gave him. Then he would collapse on you and bury his head in your neck and say in a very quiet, tired voice, 'Thank you Zebura-kun.'"

Zebura swallowed.

"But by then all your blood would have gone to your dick, making you incredably hard. And you begin to prepare him. You would slick a finger through the come and start to gentaly push on the tight ring of mucles that guarded the door to heaven. You would push past them and feel them clench on your finger as he gasped on your neck and shivered. He would begin to protest weakly as you thrust it in gently and pulled it out. Once you could easily move one finger around you would add another and continue, but with more speed and force."

Zebura started panting.

"He would start protesting louder now, trying to push away, but you would press him to your body and sicissor your fingers, wringing a squeal from him. That dellightful noise would be the thing that set you off and you would begin to trully finger fuck him. Pressing in and out in such a fast way that he would begin to grow hard again even as he protest in a weak gasp ridden voice. Once you deemed him streched enough to your liking you would remove your fingers, leaving him moaning on your lap. You would spread your precome on your dick to slick it up and then you would move to press the large tip to his loosened anus."

Zebura shifted his weight to his his front.

"He, by this time, would have given up on getting away and would stuff his fingers into his mouth to muffle himself, but you of course would hear everything. Then you would lower him, pressing him down gently until that mushroom head of your penise popped into that warm, moist, wet cavern and he would squirm. He would look at you and bg you with his eyes to thrust inside of him. And you would, you would squeeze every bit of your fat dick inside of him and leave him to wither on it. To leave him impaled on your dick. And after you got enough of the feeling of Komatsu wiggling on you, you would rock your hips and slowly pull out, and once all but the tip was still in you would force it all back in. You would fuck him, hard, and rough and slow. You would drink in every whimper and whine and you would watch his pleasure filled face as he looked at you and begged you 'Please-"

Zebura used the last of the strenght in his legs and launched himself far from their campsite. He pumped his legs as he ran from the chef that would think about while he took care of himself far away.

But even from the distance he was away when he finally stopped, he could hear the loud brahying laughter of Sani.

**_Yes, I know Sani talks weird. but Damnit I wrote porn, I don't have to do small details like that._**


End file.
